


The Consequences of Necromancy

by CatThulu, Shaxxophone



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Begins post-warmind but pre-forsaken, Canon Divergent Fix-it, Everybody Lives AU (but with extra steps)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatThulu/pseuds/CatThulu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaxxophone/pseuds/Shaxxophone
Summary: Is it really necromancy if it can be explained by a mixture of science and the Light? Probably. Is it morally ambiguous? Maybe. Is it kickass to revive the Iron Lords? Absolutely.When the dead start coming back to life, things are going to change, no question about it. Follow the perspectives of a variety of characters as they carve their own story in time, one that never should have happened, but one they will fight tooth and nail to ensure has the happy ending they never got.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “In conclusion… I should have no problem resurrecting a Ghost if it’s been put back together properly. I will, however, need to test this, and for these tests I would like to use the Ghosts of the Iron Lords.”  
> \-- Quote from Peaches-2, during Consensus meeting 3273.01

You could hear a fucking pin drop when Peaches-2 finally peaked above her stack of papers that she read her speech from. Many sets of eyes were staring at her, and though she desperately searched for it, she found comfort in none of them. 

It was Executor Hideo who spoke first--she wanted the silence filled, but oh sweet Traveler, not this way. “This is ridiculous! Surely all of you here must see that--if we go through with this plan it will bring about a new age of faction wars. Is that what you Guardians want? Seemingly endless war, once again?” 

Obviously, no one wanted a repeat of the faction wars. Every single person in that room was willing to die if it meant keeping Guardians from fighting Guardians all over again. The outcomes were too messy, too deadly, sometimes even too strange. A threat like that--intentionally sounding like one or not--was enough for the silence in the room to continue. 

It felt like minutes, but maybe it was only some long seconds, before Lakshimi cleared her throat. “If I’ve been following this correctly, Executor, it seems that yours is the only faction who would not be in favor of the motion. More Guardians means that we are better prepared for the coming of the darkness, which the Future War Cult favors. The Iron Lords built civilization from nothing, which is something Dead Orbit would favor. Is your faction’s backbone fragile enough that strengthening the Guardians’ numbers could be your demise?” 

“It’s not just strengthening their numbers, it’s bringing back the Iron Lords! The Guardians who made it their entire life’s work to kill monarchs. Do you really not see the problem here? Do you think that the New Monarchy _wouldn’t_ take this as a cause of alarm? It could even be a direct threat! The Iron Lords are archaic and no longer necessary. Society as a whole has moved past the need for them. You must surely see why my faction would see this choice, should you choose it at all, as the first steps to future aggression? Or as the fear I already stated: War? Oh, but you and your Future War Cult would like that, wouldn’t you Lakshimi--” 

“ _ENOUGH_ ,” Commander Zavala cut through the arguing with a presence that yet again cast a hush across the room. “We are not here to insult each other, and we are not here to point fingers at each other. Peaches has presented her findings, and it is our duty to discuss them. This is not a time for panic and fear, but instead for level heads. We will state benefits and consequences, and then decide how to proceed.” 

He was right, of course. The matter at hand was too fragile for brash and messy fingers to handle. Peaches-2, the Warlock of the hour, had found a formula that might just to bring Ghosts back to life after they lost their Light. It was no easy feat, of course, but where most Warlocks spent their time researching ways to fight the darkness, Peaches spent her time learning to repair the Light. She gave herself the title of Ghost Doctor, and Guardians would flock to her when their small floating companions were in need. If anyone was capable of doing this, it would be her. Her entire life’s work was now laid bare for the consensus to review, criticize, and decide if it was even remotely worth any credence.

Now that she was here? She wanted to jump out of the nearest window and hide in a trash can until it was all over. Peaches was terrified of turning in redeemable tokens to the Vanguard, the fact that she had the guts to not bail from the Consensus at the first sign of criticism was a miracle in itself. 

“Um, Sir? If I may, can I say one last thing before we go on?” Peaches asked, struggling to make her voice loud enough to be heard. Every authority figure in the tower put their eyes right back on her. The trashcan thought sounded more appealing by the second.

“You have the floor,” Zavala affirmed with a nod. 

She nodded in thanks and clutched her stack of papers close for dear life, as though it could somehow repel the daggers that Executor Hideo has been glaring down at her this whole time. “I know I said I would prefer it, but… we don’t have to start with the Iron Lords. I was just suggesting them because of how recent the Red War was--is. It’s still ongoing in some parts of the system. While we have plenty of available fallen Ghosts from all of the fighting… I feel that it's recentness would cause conflict. People would be fighting to get their fireteams--their loved ones--resurrected before others. Above that, if something goes wrong, if the resurrected Ghosts die again due to complications, the whole tower will feel the losses a second time... I know if I lost my fireteam, got them back, and lost them all over again, I would lose my mind… My reasoning for choosing the Iron Lords as my first candidates is a matter of morality. It would be cruel to affect so many people if this goes wrong, when we have the opportunity for it to only affect a small number… Thank you, that is all.” 

Commander Zavala sent a respectful nod right back at her. “Thank you Peaches. Now, Executor Hideo, you are the one who seemed to have the most concerns, so I would like us all to hear these concerns first.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Hideo took a deep breath and began to speak his defense. “I would like you to consider this: What would happen if we started to bring old Speakers back to life? Old members of the Vanguard? Surely, this would create an upset in the chain of command. What if there was some sort of insurrection, and a whole new faction was born of people following their leaders of the past? Another thing. You say that you would like to revive the Iron Lords. The Iron Lords did not know the Vanguard, and they did not know the Consensus. What would cause them to show any sort of loyalty to us?” 

Lord Shaxx stepped forward to speak, but he was beaten to it by a loud chicken squawk that successfully drew the attention of the room. Cayde-6 had stood up abruptly, thrusting his chicken into the air, and announced, "I think you're right, Colonel!" 

He placed the chicken back onto his seat and folded his hands together, in an attempt to be mindful of his fellow Vanguard sitting on either side of him. “You're talking about old members of the Vanguard coming back and maybe wanting their old jobs... Hah! ...That is absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't pay anyone enough glimmer or favors to take this job back from us-- Well, maybe Saint-14, but last we heard he got Vex’d in the Infinite Forest. Don’t think we’re getting him back any time soon." With a sudden clap of the hands, Cayde began to pace as he spoke. Mindfulness forgotten, the other members of the consensus had to duck and weave around his hands as they aided in his argument. "Osiris gave this thing up and left. Saladin’s perfectly content on his mountain. The only people that leave are… who? Oh that’s right, all the dead the Hunter Vanguards. Do you guys seriously think any Hunter is going to be jumping at the chance to take this job back? If you do, let me in on your reality because I’m DYING to live in that world!” 

With a sharp pivot as if to prove he was making an entirely separate point, Cayde lifted a finger in the air. “Now, Hideo, you mentioned worrying about the Speakers. In my opinion, bringing back the Speakers would be, how should I say this... the worst idea ever. Big blue here is doing a better job than half of the Speakers we’ve had. They were always so self important and prattled off a lot of bullshit--”

“ _Language_ \--,” Zavala interjected

He waved a dismissive hand and kept going “--Point is, the last Speaker had Osiris exiled and guess what happened? All of his prophecies came true. He chose avoiding political conflict over trusting his Warlock Vanguard-- hell his Vanguard _Commander_ \-- to do his damn job. I say the Speakers shouldn’t come back." He plopped back down in his seat and put Colonel back in his lap, stroking her feathers.

Lord Shaxx, having the loudest voice in the room, decided to take that ball that Cayde got rolling, and punt it further down the field. “I can agree that reviving the Speakers would be a poor idea. I can sympathise with those who would argue their presence gives faith to Guardians and Civilians alike, but bringing them back would end in disaster. If we decided to pick and choose, it would seem like some sort of a power play. If we had all of the Speakers alive at once then it would lead to conflict--the very conflict that Hideo feared would surely come to pass. If we want a Speaker so badly, I say the Consensus picks a new one. Otherwise, you leave it be.” Shaxx then pounded his fist on a table (ah yes, the titan thing), looking pointedly at Executor Hideo. “I would also like to bring up the fact that the Iron Lords were _not_ king killers. They were _tyrant_ killers. Do you plan on installing a tyrant, Hideo?”

“Well, no--” 

“Then you should have nothing to worry about. Times are different now. Light bearers were taking control of large portions of land for the sake of their own survival, not for the sake of those who were already living there. To most warlords, civilians were an afterthought. A resource. A means to an end. This City is the realization of the Iron Lords’ greatest dream; a bastion for the last of humanity. They would never want to disturb the peace that they died trying to get--and if any of them do, they will meet my fist.”

Zavala took a chance to cut in before Hideo could come up with more defense. “I would also like to remind the consensus that we brought Lord Shaxx here to speak for the Iron Lords, as bringing Lord Saladin into the mix could cause too many complications.” 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Cayde muttered. He earned a silencing glare from Zavala for that, but he wasn’t wrong. You don’t get between a Guardian and their friends, and you _definitely_ don’t get between an _Iron Lord_ and their friends. They had a bigger sense of family than modern Guardians ever did. If Saladin knew having them back was even an option? Meeting would already be over. He would have made Peaches come with him to do it here and now. No debates.

“The point here is that we need to trust his word. If we don’t then there would be no reason to have brought him here.”

The Executor leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his chin and trying to hold back the scowl that threatened to consume his face. His next words came out more careful and measured than the last, “I understand why Lord Shaxx is here, and why Lord Saladin is not. I also understand that reviving those lost in the Red War could re-open wounds not yet healed, if this experiment becomes an utter failure. What I would like to know is… _If_ the New Monarchy were to give their support on this matter, what steps will be taken to guarantee we won’t be considered a threat by the Iron Lords? Or that they won’t try to someday edge us out of the Consensus?” 

“I’ll see to that,” Zavala adjusted his posture and held his hands behind his back. “Much has changed since they died, and they will need help adjusting to this new world. Lord Saladin, Lord Shaxx, and myself have all proven our loyalty to the city time and time again. We’ve built these walls by hand, bled for their security, and worked tirelessly to ensure they did not fall. Even when the walls did fall, we fought to get them back. They’ll trust us, and if anyone can help them understand what has been built, and why they should uphold it, it would be us.”

The room finally went silent again. Zavala’s assurance looked like it was enough for the Executor, but only just. Everyone knew he was going to be outvoted, even with as short as this meeting has been, so maybe that’s why no one was jumping at the chance to further prove their points to him. Peaches had kind of expected the debating to go on a lot longer--reviving the dead was a morally questionable matter, wasn’t it? Necromancers were always the evil ones in the pre-golden age books she read, at least. But then again, with the darkness creeping ever closer, maybe the consensus felt they couldn’t worry as much about clear morality. Maybe furthering the chances of survival made the benefits outweigh the risks. Or maybe it was simple enough that reviving Guardians was different from reviving mortals. 

When the silence had carried on long enough, Commander Zavala brought the room’s attention back to himself. “Are we ready to put this to a vote?” 

He was met with general murmurs of agreement.

“Will all those in favor of Peaches’ proposal raise their hand?” 

From the way the meeting was going, she knew it could end up this way. Nonetheless, Peaches-2 was astonished--it was nearly unanimous, with the exception of Executor Hideo. 

“I think we have our answer then. Let the record show that the Consensus has agreed to support Peaches-2 in her efforts to begin reviving fallen Ghosts, with the intentions to either revive fallen Guardians, or to add new blood to our midst. Peaches, you are to gather your work and head to Felwinter’s Peak to propose your idea to Lord Saladin. The Tower will have your back in your efforts whenever you need it. Keep contact with Ikora throughout this process, and keep her informed of any updates as they arrive.”

She could cry. Peaches could actually cry right then. Years of work finally coming to fruition. Now all she had to do was talk to the most intimidating Titan she’s ever met, and things could get well on their way. This could be the start of something great, and no matter where this journey was going to lead her--no, lead the _world_ \--she was excited to be a part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is a collaborative fic between two authors who've had this idea we've been ruminating on for quite a while, and we finally decided to put it out there for someone to read, rather than just talking our friends' ears off about it all the time. We're excited to write and share this journey, and hope that you stick around for the long haul :) 
> 
> [As a reminder/disclaimer, the perspectives of this fic will be switching more frequently as more characters are revived/introduced.]


	2. The Beginning of the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve been working on this for 314 years. You got this girl, don’t let the fear of some broody old man stop you now.”  
> \-- Quote from Rylie Slasher, badass King Slayer and girlfriend to Peaches-2

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. 

Gripping her fingers tightly to the wheel of her ship, Peaches-2 began to steer in closer to Felwinter’s Peak. There was no need for panic. This was Lord Saladin, after all! He had been Titan Vanguard for years before Zavala!

...But for this whole thing to work, she basically had to ask him, ‘Hey! I want you to risk sacrificing your mental health in a way that might make you relive something that’s _gotta_ be on the top-20-list-of-most-traumatic-things-to-happen-in-human-history, just so I can test a theory.’ 

Yeah, that couldn’t go wrong at all. A perfect plan.

She huffed and let her Ghost take the wheel so that she could stare out the ship’s windows in search of something to center herself with. Maybe some falling snow, or pretty trees… but of course she was flying too fast to hone in on any of those things. The mountain range proved a good enough distraction though; no two peaks looked the same. Some were short, some were tall, some bulky, and some small. One peak looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in ages, while others had caves carved into them, ripe for the exploring. Maybe she could take Rylie here sometime… 

Then Peaches was suddenly able to see more details-- her Ghost must’ve started slowing the ship as they closed in. Her attention was pulled to the rusty old gondola which was now stopped halfway up the mountain, dangling over nothingness. Its doors were blown off and snow made its home inside. Icicles long enough to skewer a Titan were stuck around the bottom. The transit station that controlled it looked old and was clearly rusted beyond repair... Watching that thing as she passed made her feel bad for whichever poor son of a bitch had to get it running during the city age. Thank the Light for transmat. And of course thank the Vanguard for allowing her access to the peak’s beacon.

She saw Vostok (a Crucible area) pass by, wolves meandering around together, smoke rising from firepits-- 

Annnd suddenly she was out in the cold. Standing in the middle of a courtyard.

Whyyyy, oh why, was she out in the cold, in the middle of a courtyard.

“Apples?” 

“Would you have _not_ dragged your ass if I left you in the ship?” Apples, the equally absurdly named Ghost asked with an implying tone. 

Peaches wanted to make some witty comeback, but didn’t get the chance-- two wolves started stalking towards her with hackles raised and throats growling. _This_ must have been part of why Lord Saladin didn’t like people coming here without prior notice. Darn Cayde for telling her that was just a rumor. Sure, she was a deathless robot, but these things looked massive. With hands held high, she started to make a slow walk in reverse. “It’s okay little wolfies… I don’t mean any harm. I’m juuuust here to talk to Lord Saladin.”

Unfortunately, these words fell upon deaf ears-- the wolf on the left lunged at her more swiftly than she could react. It took her down and clamped its jaw around her neck with strength she hadn’t expected, and sank its teeth into the soft tubing that pumped oil through her body. 

...Well now this was less than ideal. If she hurt this wolf trying to get free, Lord Saladin would _kill_ her. She could try to be witty and think up a way to get free without hurting it? But that could take more time than she currently had. She was also starting to lose her finer motor function due to the leaking oil. She could... do nothing? 

Ah yes, plan: ‘do nothing’ would work perfectly. Peaches went limp, submitting entirely as the wolf began to drag her to the edge of the mountain. It intrigued her that this wolf knew exactly what to do here. It knew the right part of an exo to hit for a fast take-down. It had a seemingly pre-planed disposal method. Were these wolves trained to take down Guardians? It made sense considering the Iron Lords fought Risen, but was that really necessary these days? The wolf looked old, sure. It had plenty of white around its muzzle, and it walked with a limp, but it couldn’t have been _that_ old. 

Peaches felt a sudden jerk, and her legs were slid out over the mountain side. She was pushed further over, and… wow. She was really going to let this happen. The wolf released its grip, and Peaches went tumbling down.

For the briefest of moments during her fall, she saw flecks in her vision that could only mean her Ghost was going to convert her back into Light--

And then she was standing before Lord Saladin. _Oh sweet Traveler this was the nightmare scenario--_

No. No it wasn’t. It wasn’t allowed to be. 

A little bit of embarrassment wasn’t going to kill her today. She just had to take stock of the situation and act like nothing happened.  
It didn’t matter that a wolf threw her off a cliff, or that she interrupted his peace. This was more important than those things. 

Right. Okay. Processing. She was getting back on the right track. 

Lord Saladin was sitting on a bench beside a fire pit. There were two wolves at his side, one a muddy gray, one pure black. Both looked pissed. Lord Saladin was looking like his quality relaxing time had just been interrupted, and was not actively trying to calm his wolves. He just stood up and put his fists on his hips, watching her closely. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, um, well I, uh… There’s an experiment I’m running--?” Plan to not panic: failed! “Not just an experiment. It’s a… hypothesis I'm testing? I have a hypothesis, and I would like your help in figuring out how to do this?” Wrong. “Or-- I mean I know _how_ to do this, I just need your help to do it really, if you’re able.” And now comes the foresight: “...I’m so sorry for not calling ahead. Cayde told me you like surprise visits. I didn’t think this though.”

“ Why would you believe Cayde?” he asked flatly, clearly not amused by any of this.

“He seemed really genuine…”

“He wasn't.”

“Yeah…”

He motioned for his wolves to stand down, and the growling stopped. “What about Cayde’s sincerity made you believe I would like random Guardians showing up unannounced at my home, where I have wolves that are trained to take down uninvited Lightbearers? Do you like people just walking into your home unannounced?”

Her awkward silence spoke volumes, prompting a grunt of annoyance from the Titan. Peaches had made her home into a hospital for Ghosts. She, in fact, had a sign in the front window that read: ‘WALK-INS WELCOME’. Lord Saladin decided to move on. “What brought you here?”

“I have an experiment I’m running, and I’ve gotten strong suggestions to come to you for help on it. It’s not a run of the mill warlock experiment though, I promise, I wouldn’t bother you for that.”

“Who suggested you come to me?”

“Um. Ikora Rey?” There was a lot to pick from, but Ikora was always the best person to pick when trying to get any kind of experiment approved by third parties. If you want results, you pick the smartest and and scariest person you know. 

“Ikora Rey and whom else?”

Shit. He saw through her. More talking necessary. “...The entire consensus aside from Executor Hideo?” 

He furrowed his brow “Do you have a message from them for me?”

“Yes sir!” She rifled through her pockets and pulled out a letter with the official consensus seal on it, and held it out to him. As disappointed in herself as she was, Peaches was unbelievably relieved that she didn’t have to talk anymore for the next few moments. The letter would handle everything. 

She didn’t know what was in the letter--opening it would have meant breaking the seal--but she had a fairly good idea of the contents. It would’ve gone into her theory about how to revive Ghosts. The reasons as to why The Consensus wanted to use Iron Lords as test subjects. The request for Lord Saladin to help. There was probably more to it than that, but those were the three important take-aways that she needed him to get right now. 

Saladin read in complete silence. Expression un-readable. It felt like ages before he finally took a deep breath… it appeared that even legends needed to center themselves from time to time. As he folded the letter and fit it back into its envelope, he spoke, “I will give you the Ghost of a Warlock who would have sold his body to science, but I have my own set of criteria before you get this Ghost.” 

This was approval!!! This is the dream about to come true!!! Yes!!! Peaches bowed in respect to him as she used every last bit of willpower to show restraint. “Thank you, sir! What is your criteria?”

He crossed his arms, fists clenched tight enough to crush the letter in hand. “First of all, how do you plan to handle the leftover SIVA nanites on the shells if I do get them for you? I'm not keen on the idea of you accidentally reviving SIVA in the middle of the city in your attempts to run experiments.” 

“I’m not too keen on that either... I was considering purchasing a laboratory ship, and doing the cleaning process there one Ghost at a time. That way if anything were to get out of control, it would be far from the City, and self destruction protocols could be put into place.”

It took several long moments for him to debate this, clearly thinking through the options and various problems that could arise in great detail. Lord Saladin would not be skimping on the criteria today. Finally he drew breath and spoke, “You will need to make sure wherever you are in this ship, no communications can get in or out. You will need your Ghost to be nowhere near you until you’re positive you don’t have any SIVA on you. The Ghost I give you is to be quarantined; no ghosts are allowed anywhere near it. It might be wise to have your Ghost on look out for warsats just in case. Since you’ll be in an area with blocked coms you should check in with someone every so often to make sure that everything is okay. This is a non-exhaustive list, and If I can think of anything else, I will contact you.” 

This was… really serious. More so than Peaches expected. She gave a slow nod as she took the time to process all of that and see how she could fit these new puzzle pieces into her pre-existing plan… this was doable. She could do this. She _had_ to do this, but the bright side is that the more she thought, the more she knew she _could_.

With more confidence than she had shown him his entire conversation, Peaches said, “It will take some time, and some work to make all of that happen. But I’ll make it so. Do you still have my Ghost’s communications code from Iron banner?”

“ I do.” 

“Good. I’ll let you know when all of the preparations are complete.”

“Then I’ll have the Ghost for you when that happens.” 

“Thank you. I’ll be getting to it now, I guess?” She backed up hesitantly, unsure if there was more for them to say, but him turning around and heading towards the stairs answered that well enough. The wolves watched her with what she could _swear_ was judgement in their eyes for just a moment, before they soon followed after him loyally.

Peaches turned around and looked up at the overcast sky as she walked. This was happening. This was becoming real. Her dream was becoming a reality, and Guardians were taking their first steps to _actual_ Ghost revival. 

No amount of anxieties or fears that might plague her for the rest of the day could bring her spirits down now. The beginning was finally _here_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we will be shifting away from Peaches-2, and will be focusing the perspective of a certain yellow cloaked hunter you might be familiar with if you played Rise of Iron :)


	3. A walk in the (SIVA Infested) Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What do you mean I gotta find a replacement? You’re killin’ me Shiro.”  
> \-- Quote from Cayde-6, who’s tired of getting more work to do

The Plaguelands were quiet. 

_Too_ quiet.

Just kidding, they were a normal amount of quiet, Shiro just couldn’t pass up the joke. 

He stood at the precipice between the greater Cosmodrome and the Plaguelands, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. From that height, on the old wall that was now showing signs of crumbling, he could see for miles in either direction. Even more if he used his sniper rifle. If anything was off, he would know.

Luckily, there was nothing out of the ordinary. If his latest intel was right, it should stay that way. Lord Saladin and Shiro had worked hard to seal up the Plaguelands’ more conventional entrances, so... he’d be kinda pissed if the Fallen turned it into a rave joint while he was gone. 

_“Go to the Plaguelands and find a dead Ghost by the Tanker,”_ Lord Saladin told him in their earlier call. _“While you’re there, check around for any leftover Devils activity.”_

A pretty straight forward request. No explanation as to _why_ he was doing this— and not for a lack of asking either. It didn’t matter much though, by his tone Shiro knew there was no sense in arguing, so he just got on with it. He gathered up all his things from his Nessus assignment, gave Cayde-6 a call, then set off on his search. 

It was crazy to think about how much changed in such a short span of time. The replication chamber was destroyed, the House of Devils, disbanded. The Fallen didn’t have much of a reason to be out there anymore, after having occupied this region for decades. With no way to create new SIVA nanites, the appeal was entirely lost… but a healthy dose concern could never hurt. That’s why Commander Zavala put a quarantine order over the whole Cosmodrome— which, as a part of the Cosmodrome, obviously included the Plaguelands. Y’know. The place where _it_ all happened.

SIVA still marked the land like an infection, it’s veiny red wires snaking their way out of the ground, gripping onto every foundation it could sink its roots into. Sometimes it was sheathed in strange black material, covered in dark metal diamonds. It even at some points left outlines drawn into the snow. There was almost nowhere you could look. But the greater threat was gone, and all he had to do was meander through the wreckage. 

He took a step forward, and plunged down to get shit done. 

The Cosmodrome was just another ghost town when he wandered through.

The Plaguelands though? That description didn’t fit quite so much. 

The ghost towns were relics from the past where he could only _imagine_ what they were like in their heyday. They were like an incomplete puzzle, and the reference picture was long lost, but if you put enough pieces together you could sort of get the right idea. Ghost towns made Shiro feel a lot of different things. Wonder at what once was. Resolve to get it back. Excitement for what might someday be. Mournful for all that was lost and would never be known again. Lots of things.

The Plaguelands, however, were different. A bright future is hard to imagine when the dark past is visible at every step.

Could a place be haunted, even when no spirits walked its grounds? Shiro thought it could, although he never liked to think on it for long. Sometimes just looking around at the aftermath would pull fourth images in his mind— even shouts and screams. Sounds of gunfire, imaginings of what the battle must have been like— 

Saladin and Tyra’s stories got to him more than he’d care to admit. They gave him just enough information to put that puzzle fully together and imagine _exactly_ what went down. The rest of the information he got from the SIVA nodes just made it worse. A Guardian was a Guardian, no matter the era. That’s what makes it so easy to put himself in their shoes. 

No sense in dwelling though. There was work to be done. He summoned his sparrow and got on with it.

Shiro did his best to not scrape the many rusting structures, dilapidated buildings, and multicolored shipping containers he had to weave through along the way. He was used to taking in information quickly while traveling at high speeds; that’s the difference between slamming into a building at 60 mph or not. It also helped him out with that scouting Saladin wanted to do--

Shit, he still nearly got caught up on some of those damn wires though. The ones this far along were weaved together to look more like _muscle_. Some of it was even still pulsing. Gross. 

The Fallen House of Devils never seemed to care how their actions affected the land. They broke into the chambers where SIVA had been contained for hundreds of years, and allowed it to spread all over the place. For something that was originally engineered to help humanity, SIVA sure acted like a parasite or invasive species when not controlled properly. And dear sweet Light, did the Devils not control it properly. It’s like they didn’t even care what it did, so long as it was helping _them_.

‘Helping’ had a pretty specific meaning in this circumstance. A lot of Fallen houses had splicer sects. They were these divisions where the members were big into body modifications. The Devils were a step above all the rest though; they were just crazy enough to not care what there was to lose. After _knowing_ that SIVA had been enough to wipe out the Iron Lords in one day, they still went after it’s rumored glory. All it took was to hear about a ninite meant to terraform barren planets into booming colonies, they decided, ‘Oh! Let’s go shove that into our bodies! THAT will surely make us strong enough to do whatever we want’. 

Thank the Light for the Young Wolves though. That strength didn’t stick. He was still blown away by their heroics, there’s no way he and Saladin could’ve done this without them--a tale for another time, though.

He began to close in on the shipping yard, which meant the tanker was nearly in sight. This was where the fighting began. Hundreds of frames controlled by Rasputin, gunning down friends who fought for their hopes and dreams of reclaiming a world on the brink. 

No dwelling. It wasn’t necessary. 

Shiro slowed his sparrow to a halt just shy of yet another stack of shipping containers, and dismounted. The Ghost was somewhere around here... He wasn’t sure if the Iron Lord died _inside_ the tanker, or outside of it. The ship was massive, if he had to search the whole thing, that could take days. 

Bullet spray. That’s what he had to keep his eyes peeled for, he knew that this guy died fighting hundreds of frames, even after he ran out of bullets. So really, Shiro just had to look for old, rusted over bullet spray. He could move past anything that looked fresh enough to have happened in the past few years, and speed the process up that way. 

… But the tanker was still massive. 

“You know I can scan around to help you out, right?” Suzume asked, floating somewhere beside him. 

Shiro must’ve frozen at some point while taking in his surroundings. Whoops. “Right. That would help a lot, thank you.” 

“Yeah, no problem” 

He pulled his sniper rifle off his back and started forging the path, looking for any potentially viable zones while his Ghost occasionally lit up the area with the soft blue glow of her scans. 

\------- -------

It felt like hours of searching. This was almost worse than a needle in a haystack situation--the two ended up splitting apart to cover more ground. Shiro could patrol inside the ship, while Suzume could scan the outside. If the Iron Lord _did_ die outside, his Ghost would be covered in years of dirt by now. If it was inside, there was a larger chance of it being visible. 

Narrowing it down to areas with bullet spray certainly helped. That was the difference between methodically checking through every pile of snow, every plant that became daring enough to grow inside, and just moving on to the next location.

He worried about leaving his Ghost alone out there. She was smart, knew the region, and could handle herself just fine, but that didn’t make the occasional ‘what-if’s go away. The house of Devils was absorbed into the House of Dusk, which had no interest in this region. But what if one of the Splicer Priests was missed, and stuck around the region somehow? What if--

Shiro snaps back to present when he kicks a loose screw, causing an echo that could be heard across this whole part of the ship. 

Freeze. Listen. Wait. 

Nothing. Just crashes of ocean waves, and occasional creaks of old metal settling. Shiro relaxed. He really needed to trust his own reports more, _he_ was the one who finalized the report saying the Devil's presence in the Plaguelands was gone after all. A little more faith couldn’t hurt.

“Shiro, I think I’ve got something over here,” Suzume alerted him through their neurolink. 

“Really? That’s great, can you send me a waypoint?”

A waypoint appeared in his vision, guiding him out of the ship. It wasn’t even that far from where they started either. What luck was that? ...Well, good luck for them at least. Probably incredibly poor luck for the Iron Lord. 

When he arrived, Suzume was floating over a patch of dirt beside yet another stack of shipping containers. “Where is it?” 

“I believe I got a faint reading of a dead Ghost directly under this area?” She did an extra scan of the area, just to be sure she was right. “Yes. Directly down.” 

“So we dig then.” That was workable. They could dig down. He looked back to his Ghost. “We got a shovel in there, or do I need to do awful things to my rifle?” 

She spun her shell, having a sheepish energy about her. “ We left it on Nessus.”

Shrio sighed heavily, leaning his head back to look at the sky. “Of course we did,” his focus turned back to the patch of dirt. “Hands for the dirt, sniper for touching anything with SIVA on it. Sound like a good approach?” 

She bobbed her shell in approval “Yup, I’ll keep an eye out while you do that.”

“Thanks.” He knelt down to get to work… then looked up at her with an added thought. “We _do_ have something to contain this Ghost, right?” 

“ _That_ we do have, Lord Saladin sent us a container to hold it in.”

“Good, I remember. Just wanted to be sure we didn’t leave it behind. While I get started, can you look for any loose pieces of sheet metal? If we can find one, it would be a bigger help than a sniper.”

“Yeah.” With that, she flew off, leaving shiro in the silence of the wasteland while he dug his hands into the dirt.  


\------- -------

The digging took longer than the search itself, even with the added help of a broken off piece of steel. He had to be careful while he dug--if he shoved it in too harshly, he risked breaking the Ghost before he even saw it. That wouldn’t do. So it was with much care that he sifted through several hundreds of years of dirt and rocks and Fallen junk. Mostly dirt. Until it wasn’t.

At one point he found a whole dead _frame_ with threads of SIVA laced onto its body and through its joints. With careful effort, he managed to lift it out using the steel… only to find another one directly underneath it. 

It was okay though. Shiro was patient. This was a favor for Saladin. For him, Shiro would fight any battle. Run any distance. And in this case, spend so long carving out frame after frame with such care to not touch them, that the sun began to set around him. 

Shiro thought about the Iron Lord as he worked. Not Lord Saladin, but the one whose Ghost he was searching for. The one who managed to send waves of electricity through these frames, scarring them and the SIVA that still clung to this day. The one who somehow after all these years of being dead stuck out in Lord Saladin’s mind. 

He knew this couldn’t have been one of the main ones he always spoke of. All of them died in the chamber. So why… 

His sheet was met with a soft clink.

Softer than the sounds the frames produced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We said we would try to get this out by the end of January, and we MEANT it. There just so happens to be four and a half hours left of it lmao. Sorry for the slight Hiatus! Shaxxophone had a mild case of broken arm, so writing went on pause for a bit. 
> 
> Next chapter should be a really long one, so there's not really an estimate of how long it will take. It will hopefully be worth it!


End file.
